


Like A Prayer

by sasha_b



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_b/pseuds/sasha_b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan and Rogue and a discussion on music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like A Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> For Comment Fic. Set during the first X-Men film.

The girl is sitting on a bench in the back garden, the garishly pink headphones contrasting with the darkness of her hair. It's warm, but Logan doesn't care; he's spent so much time in the snow it's kinda a nice change. He keeps his jacket on, though, and pops the top of his beer as he sits next to the girl. The most dangerous girl he's ever met. Save Jean - but those thoughts are pushed out of his head as he gets a look at Marie's face.

It's white and scared and her eyes are red and so are her cheeks and the music that sounds tinnily through the headphones is -

"- you listening to that crap for?"

She shrinks from him; her hands covered in white gloves, old lady gloves, and he notices she's wearing a jacket too. Despite the warmth, she doesn't take it off. The fountain burbles near them and he slugs back some of the beer and he waits for her to answer him.

Finally she slips one side of the headphones off, balancing it behind her ear, and twists her gloved fingers together between her knees. "'s'not crap, Logan." Her voice and its accent are soft, and he feels a pain knife him somewhere in his gut at the timidness. He sighs and finishes the drink, and chucks the bottle away from him, flexing his fingers, still tired from the night before and the drain caring for this tiny girl had put on him. 

That's odd. Almost as odd as her waking him, and as odd as him giving a shit he'd put holes in her.

"It is. There's so much more better music out there. You're wastin' your time listening to that pop girl wanna be?"

"She's totally not, are you kidding?" Rogue sits up, hands still in her lap, but a bit of color coming to her cheeks. "She's brilliant. She turned the music industry on its head; a powerful _girl_ doin' all this?" She gestures at her head. "I can't believe you're even sayin' that." She huffs and crosses her arms and leans back against the bench, spitting a lose hank of hair out of her face. She frees one hand and spins it behind her head, her dark hair now a precarious bun on top of her head. Logan purses his lips and tries not to laugh. She's so young.

_I coulda killed you_ rumbles in his brain. He doesn't know if it's his thought or hers.

Clouds roll in and cover the sun, and some of the other kids spill out of the mansion and head toward the basketball court, one of them turning to look at where he's sitting with her. He waves at her, making a _come here_ gesture, and she bites her lip, hesitating.

"That one, that Bobby?" Logan jerks his chin toward the blonde boy waiting for Marie. "Yeah," she says slowly, the word a question, her eyes finally meeting his, the worry in them painful for him to see and he breaks their eye-lock, looking back at the boy, a sudden headache springing up. He flexes his hands again, feeling her soft skin there, the flesh tearing with ease at the tiniest scrape of his claws. He coulda killed her. She mighta killed _him._

Who's the worst one?

"Go play," he commands suddenly. "I gotta go see this professor about what's going on in Manhattan. Or at least what he thinks is goin' on," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Fuck this gettin' close thing. Fuck helping out. He's got his hands full with himself, thanks a whole hell of a lot.

Marie stands and stares imperiously down at him. "How old do you think I am? Sheesh, Logan." She pulls her headphones off and tosses them at him. "I'll _go play_ , if you learn to recognize good music." She turns and strides off toward the boy - Bobby - waiting for her. She falters after a few strides and turns back to him, biting her lip, eyes dark and worried.

"Are you okay?" she whispers. "I didn't mean -"

He should be the one asking her that.

"I know, kid." He picks up the hot pink earpieces and slides them on over his crazy hair. "Go," he waves a hand and she smiles and it's like a tiny explosion of sunlight on the darkest day and he aches again as she turns back to the other kids.

_Logan, I need to see you in the professor's study._

He leans back against the bench and watches the mutant kids play basketball in the growing evening, clapping the headphones over his ears to drown out the insistent voice that echoes in his head.


End file.
